


Game Night

by CobaltArkangel



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, MLG Root, N00B Reese, N00B Shaw, Pro Lionel, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3709361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltArkangel/pseuds/CobaltArkangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a series of light-hearted oneshots of members of Team Machine bonding over their love of video games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Game Night: CoD Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Just some light-hearted fun in-between numbers for Team Machine. Lord knows they've earned it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bunch of light-hearted one shots of members(and sometimes the entire team) bonding with each other via video games.

Shaw crouched low, CBS-XMJ Submachine gun at the ready. Her eyes aimed downrange, towards what appeared to be a patch of foliage, but instinct taught her to look at things with more than sinply a passing glance. The split second crack of a semi-automatic rifle firing was enough time to register her gut feeling true, but the speed of the projectile prevented her avatar from avoiding a bullet to the side of the head.

"Damn it Root. Stop fucking camping and just let me shoot you already!"

Only a few steps away, the hacker smirked to herself in silence, calmly reloading her Lynx rifle and relocating to another vantage point.

"Come on Sameen, it's a legitimate strategy." Root said teasingly. Shaw only huffed in response

Earlier that day had been Shaw's day off. She hoped to get some sleep, steak, and some alone time. All she got was sleep.

After a couple hours awake and half a six-pack, naturally someone had to drop by and screw up her plans. And that someone happened to be Root, fresh of a number with a console and two controllers in tow, along with a disk case. She had no clue how Root talked her into it; all she know was she was getting her ass kicked in COD.

She had chosen the map "Prison Break" because it was the first on the list, and immediately came to regret it. The long lines-of-sight put her and her SMG at a disadvantage against Root's rifle. Their first meeting in-game resulted in Sameen firing her weapon in the direction of her avatar's kneecap, missing most of her shots due to her lack of aiming, while Root just smirked at her plight and emptied her pair of pistol's in Shaw's (digital) body. 

In their next encounter Shaw actually managed to catch Root by surprise, jumping her with her SMG at point-blank range, where it was most effective. Unfortunately, Root's knife was far more effective at that range, barely saving its owner from getting mulched.

In their third encounter, Shaw actually succeeded in killing the smug gamer, but only through the accidental use of a grenade that resulted in her own (avatar's) suicide that rendered her score net-zero

After a slew of humorous deaths(who even falls of the map in a COD game?) that put Root's lead in double digits, she finally took pity on the Persian and taught her the basics, surprising the smaller woman with the fact that she had a backup weapon as well as different grenade types.

And now that Shaw learned the essentials, Root held nothing back and pulled out her favorite gun. The Lynx rifle.

It was just like the AWP from Counter-Strike, overpowered, and she liked it that way. It took just enough skill to to call it a balanced weapon, with a high skill ceiling that made a skilled user a force of nature. 

She had traveled to the top of the tower, and placed some I.E.D.'s at the stairs of the second floor to cover her back while she scoped out the map. "Root..." said Shaw through gritted teeth, eyes glancing on the scoreboard which clearly showed the Federation losing by a large margin. "Stop hiding." Shaw demanded in her usual tone of voice.

"Why would I want to hide from you, sweety?" Root asked in a playful tone, followed by a putting one in her avatar's chest, which, due to Shaw's natural luck, was treated as a headshot by the game engine.

" Oh come on!" Sameen growled out, exasperated. "That was absolute bull." 

"Feeling a bit sore, Sameen?" Root began, then a small, playful smile appeared on her face, " 'Cause if you are, I know just the thing that might help soothe all that.." she paused for a beat, her smirk growing seductive, " _tension"_

Shaw felt her face warm slightly, and was painfully aware of the slight rose blush on her cheeks. Thankfully, Root's eyes were glued to the screen.

\-------

She had finally managed to reach the tower Root was camping in. She felt her chest tighten in anxiety; she finally had the hacker cornered, and her weapon gave her an advantage in the tight quarters of the building, but something felt wrong. Root wasn't tense on her screen, simply waiting by the stairs with her pair of pistols out. Shaw tossed a fragmentation grenade up the stairs, the digital explosive landing on the other side of the rails, and right in front of Root's avatar's legs. 

Root promptly dolphin dived away, the grenade damaging her character enough to give her a bloody screen. Shaw capitalized on the wounded state of Root's player by sprinting up, CBS-XMJ in hand to finish her of

Right onto the (then) dormant I.E.D.'s

Shaw's face was priceless, eyes narrowed, mouth agape in a little _O_. She was clearly pissed of, especially since that was the last kill of the game, wrapping up their little 1v1 at 25-4. Root was laughing hysterically, eyes watering and clutching her gut. Sameen glared at her with carefully controlled malice 

"Not. One. Word." she said, the intent of the threat wholly apparent to the still-laughing hacker. 

\-------

"This was fun." Root began, sounding surprisingly awkward and shy.

"Yeah ." Shaw said gruffly, nodding her head slightly.

"We should do it again sometime."

"Guess so.."

Shaw was barely paying attention until she felt warm lips press into the side of cheek gently, part of which settled on the corners of her own mouth. Her eyes widened as she found herself staring at Root's lips, surprised and speechless, while Root simply gave her a flirtatious smirk that hid flecks of genuine sincerity within her lips. 

"Thanks, Sameen."


	2. Game Night: Watch_Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You know, he kind of reminds me of you, wonderboy." Said Fusco, in-between bites of Panini_
> 
>  
> 
> _"Tall, Dark, and Menacing?" Reese asked_
> 
>   _"No. Grumpy guy with a hero complex and only one outfit in his wardrobe."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just Fusco and Reese bonding over a POI clone of a game

"It came with the lease." Finch insisted, but Reese knew his friend was the one responsible for the console in the closet of his apartment. While they were busy with the numbers, the closet was transformed into John's personal armory, leaving the xbox to gather dust. 

A full 3 years later, it's his birthday again. With no significant other at the moment and 24 hours to kill, he decided to give gaming a go, purchased a game on Live, and after an hour did not regret the decision

Although at-first his fingers lacked the dexterity and finesse to smoothly operate Aiden Pearce, the ex-operative quickly caught on to the simple gameplay mechanics. The hacking mechanics was very watered down, for which John was grateful. It was far simpler to understand "hold x to hack" rather than Finch's long and often tedious instructions. The gunplay was enjoyable, mostly because the game actually encouraged kneecap shots, which Reese attempted to do as often as possible for consistensy's sake.

Now that he has caught on, he could control his avatar with passable dexterity, save for the driving segments which let much to be desired. 

Reese was now (poorly) driving towards the next active mission, doing his best not to hit anything, half succeeding by leaving the pedestrians unharmed, but leaving a trail of property damage in his wake. "

You know, I heard you got double points for hitting the cop cars."

Reese turned around to see Lionel standing by the door, munching on a half-eaten sandwich, a paper bag in his other hand.

"Hi Lionel" Reese said stoically, completely focused on getting his character (now on foot, his previous vehicle having stalled and soon to detonate in the streets)to the objective marker whilst policemen shot at him with small arms.

"Morning to you too, sunshine."

"What's in the bag, Fusco?" Reese asked, though he frankly wasn't paying much attention.

"Lunch." Fusco dug into the small, brown bag and pulled out a wrapped package, before tossing it to John, who caught it with ease before placing it on the table. "Roast Beef sandwich with gravy. Eat up, Cap."

"Why are you here, Fusco?"

"Right to the point, eh?" Reese did nothing to acknowledge what he said, eyes glued to the television screen. "Glasses told me you could use a friend about now, and he told me Clarke and Lexa were busy with a number. Lee's with his mom, and it beats filling paperwork on a Sunday. So sue me."

He sat down on Reese's couch with a muffled thud, pulling out a pack of chips from the takeout bag.

By then Reese had reached the yellow mission marker, beginning his avatar's trademark monologue before gameplay. 

"He sounds just like you." Fusco casually remarked. This earned a side-ways glance from John.

"I just meant that both of you got that smoker's lung voice thing in spades. Jus saying." He shrugged nonchalantly, popping another potato chip in his mouth.

"You know, wonderboy, you and your character got a lot in common." Said Fusco, in-between bites of Panini 

"Tall, Dark, and Menacing?" Reese asked

 "No. Well maybe a little. I was thinking more on grumpy guy with a hero complex and only one outfit in his wardrobe

Reese scoffed and refocused his attention on his player character, now dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit. He hacked into the (conveniently placed) security camera, following the trail of cameras while tagging prison guards, ending once he reached the main console and unlocked his cell. 

He sneaked through the prison, carefully avoiding the guard's scrutiny, before hacking into the prison yard's security feeds and observing his target, up until the point he was taken away by corrupt prison wardens. _Must be how it feels like to be Finch: Helpless to intervene._

"Your fingers getting tired there, partner? I could finish the level for you." Fusco offered, gesturing to the now-cold sandwich. The gamer simply stared at him with curious eyes. The Detective simply shrugged. "Even you need to eat sometime, John."

The man in the suit considers this for a moment, pausing the game and looking Lionel in the eye. "Alright" 

Fusco simply stared at "Riley" as if he had just said he was the Real Walter White

"What?" The Detective asked, eyes slightly widening in mild surprise

"Alright." John said, more firmly this time. "Your turn, Lionel." He placed the Onyx controller in his hand. "Right trigger shoot, _A_ to take cover, and Left trigger to aim. Kick their asses." He walked towards the table, picked up the foil-wrapped sandwich, and sat on the couch watching Fusco's increasingly skillful gameplay.

\-------

"You know, if you were as accurate with your pistol as you are with that thumbstick you could have been a hell of a CIA-operative, Lionel." John quipped sarcastically, though he would have been lying if he was to say he wasn't even a little impressed by his precision.

"Yeah yeah. How's your sandwich?" The Detective answered, eyes glued to the screen.

"Pretty good. Where'd you get it?"

"That little Deli a couple blocks away."

" Be'Wiched?"

"Yep"

At the moment Lionel had managed to clear the entire section of the kitchen, save for one heavy-weight tank of an enemy that reminded him of that Aryan enforcer he fought in the past. Bullets barely fazed the brute, and in spite of Fusco's (surprisingly) impeccable accuracy, it seems all the bullets did was piss him off even more. It had been a full 30-seconds of cat-and-mouse between the two, and it seems it would go on forever. 

"You got a shotgun Fusco. Use it." Reese reminded him gruffly, finishing the last of his sandwich.

Fusco swapped out the pistol for his shotty and began peppering the Brute's midsection, once again, other than slightly more pronounced flinching, to little effect.

"This game must be broken or something...." mumbled Fusco, who was furiously mashing buttons to combat the Heavy."I've seen trucks that take as much lead as this guy in the Scrapyard."

Just then, Fusco made the mistake of getting his avatar stuck on a pillar, followed by the Enforcer emptying his LMG in Aiden's jumpsuit, followed by the echoing audio cue of death, as well as Fusco's groan of frustration.

Fusco rubbed his temples, and offered Reese the xbox controller

"Your turn partner, kick his ass." 

Reese took it quietly, and steeled himself to retake the kitchen.

\-------

"Almost got him..." The man in the suit mumbled through gritted teeth. Right now he was low on health, out of Focus, and using a commandeered shotgun to rip apart the Bethemoth of a boss. 

"Yeah John. Kick his ass!" Lionel said somewhat excitedly. Truth be told they had passed the controller around far more times than they would care to admit. Both of them were hoping to end the Brute because of that little fact.

Right there John had baited the heavy to follow him through the bottleneck, right next to the steam pipe on the wall. With a press of a button, and half an hour of suffering, the Enforcer was no more.

Fusco whooped and raised his hand to give the lethal gamer a high five, which John, to Lionel's mild surprise, accepts with his own, followed by a firm squeeze of the his hand. 

"We did good, Lionel." He said, relief seeping into his gravelly voice, a rare smile on his face

"Damn right we did." Fusco said, a hint of pride in his voice. The Detective then awkwardly cleared his throat and checked the time. "It's 5:00pm. Gotta pick up my kid."

Reese paused the game mid-cinematic and stood up. He awkwardly offered his hand to the Detective, who reluctantly accepted it. 

"You're welcome to drop by when you can, Lionel."

Fusco shook his hand

"Thanks partner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've reached this far, thanks for putting up with my writing! If you have any requests of who should play together and what game they should bond over, just put it in the comments. Cheers...


	3. Game Night: Portal 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I take it you've discovered the gesture button, Ms.Groves?" Harold asked sarcastically, whilst P-body began waving his mechanical hand non-stop.
> 
> "Indeed, _Mr.Finch_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a suggestion from you guys for a Root/Finch one, though I decided to make it cooperative rather than competitive, since competitive!finch is very difficult to write without being out-of-character

"Morning Harry," Root said, voice uncharacteristically chipper.

"Morning to you too, Miss Groves." Harold replied, not needing to face her to know she standing right behind him, looking over his shoulder.

"Right now I'm Miss Burkle, Physics teacher." She paused, knowing full well that God's creator was not keen on listening, if the chatter of his keyboard was of any indication..

"How long have you been working on that code?" The hacker asked, interest piqued.

"Clearly not long enough, seeing as it is still yet-to-be completed." Finch once again replied, preoccupied with his work on the monitor.

He scarcely noticed when the reformed killer placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You need a break, Harold."

"No I do not; I've already had the prescribed 8 hours of sleep needed to retain full mental efficiency."

"I wasn't talking about physical burnout. Mentally speaking, though, you've already passed that point."

"And what would you suggest, _Doctor_ Groves." He inquired patronizingly, something that irked the hacker slightly though she hid it well.

Root took a seat on Harold's desk, placing her hand on her cochlear implant.

"Play a game with me."

Harold stopped typing on his keyboard.

"Excuse me?"

"Play a game with me." She dug into her(technically Shaw's) jacket and pulled out a manila envelope, placing it on his desk.

Harold gave the package a wary glance, before slowly sliding his hand towards it.

"What game did you get?" He asked, his gaze directed at Root's own.

She gave him a smirk and a shrug of her shoulders.

"She hasn't told me yet."

\-------

"So, Harold. Are you familiar with this game?" Groves asked her friend(I-guess-you-could-call-it-but-friendship-doesn't-always-begin-with-kidnapping), knowing that the machine had a reason why she selected that game for them to consume.

"Yes, actually. I played the original game back in 2007. Although the graphics have improved immensly, the mechanics seems to remain unchanged." 

Root detected something in his voice that she rarely ever saw: _enthusiasm_. Not to the degree of "average" people, but in the subtle way he seemed more awake, as if the name of the game itself reinvigorated the reclusive billionare.

The introduction of the game began, and the campaign showed 2 robots, a smaller but stocky robot that bore an uncanny resemblance to _R2-D2_ , and a willowy amber-lighted robot that vaguely resembled a lamp post.

Gameplay began. 

"I take it you've discovered the gesture button, Ms.Groves?" Harold asked sarcastically, whilst P-body began waving his mechanical hand began non-stop.

"Indeed, _Mr.Finch_ "

\--------

A couple minutes pass, Harold notices (On the new Partner's screen function) that the hacker is currently walking through what appears to be an endless limbo of portals, apparently ignoring her companion cube. 

" First time playing a Portal game?"

Root shrugged, "That obvious, huh?"

"Why isn't the Machine helping you?"

"She actually tried playing an audio walkthrough over the implant. I asked her turn it off"

"Why?"

"Figured we could do with some quality time together."

Harold spared a glance at the Brunette, who offered him a weak smile in return.

"Just don't bother looking for cake.."

Root raised an eyebrow at the speaker

"That a euphemism for something?"

God's creater simply shrugged and resumed playing.

\--------

"Miss Groves..."

" Yes, Harold?"

"Would you please release me from this incessant portal loop?"

Through some unknown variables, Root had managed to trap the billionare in limbo, coming out of the wall only to get sucked in by the floor, courtesy of her Portal gun.

"I don't know. It's pretty amusing to see it on your screen. Maybe in a few minutes..."she said with a playful smirk, while holding down . Harold was not amused, if his scalding glare wad anything to go by.

"All right. All right." the hacker spoke in mock exasperation, firing her portal gun at the wall to disable the void on the ground, freeing the robot Atlas from the cycle.

"Now let's solve the puzzle." She said, determined.

\--------

"I think I've got it figured out, Ms. Groves. Would you kindly pick up that companion cube and place it on the pressure plate." He said quickly, pinging the cube he was refering to with the space bar

"Yes, Harold." She fired the first portal on the floor and the second one on the wall next to the cube, followed by promptly jumping in.

She picked up the cube with the gun's magnetic function

"Are you enjoying yourself, Harold?" She questioned, awaiting his response with attentive ears.

Although his face remained stoic, his eyes seemed just a bit brighter. He waggled his eyebrows, a gesture which made the hacker laugh out loud.

Just then, Root placed two fingers on her implant. 

"Really?" Her face narrowed in concentration. "How long?"

She let out a soft sigh. "Gotta leave after this puzzle Harold. She wants me to take care of someone."

"The way you phrased that is very unnerving, Ms. Groves"

She simply smirked and maneuvered her character to walk toward the pressure plate.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Harold"

Just then, P-body falls into Harold's portal, only to emerge from his other portal on the wall, repeating the entire process to both party's amusement 

"Indeed, Ms. Groves."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologize if I got anything wrong or either one of them out of character, it's just difficult for me to write Finch and Root, and the only game I could find that they would both be willing to play was Portal, which I have no experience with. Next chapter will be Super Smash bros featuring team!shoot, and chapter five will either be Team Fortress 2 or Evolve, not sure yet. It's your pick, people who put up with my writing, so choose wisely.


	4. Game Night: Super Smash Bros.(Brawl)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is impossible..." Root growled, her avatar "Snake" getting his percentage knocked up to 85% to Lucario's 30%.
> 
> "Problem, Root?" She spared the hacker a glance, noticing the visible tension on her face. Then she spared a glance at her avatar's damage bar: 114%. 
> 
>  
> 
> This brought a rare smile to the ex-ISA agent's face. "You're getting your ass handed to you right now, aren't you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for the less gameplay-oriented chapter. I'm not actually familiar with SSB gameplay, so I had to nab it from second-hand sources. The options for the next chapter are in the end notes, so you can vote if you want.

_Swing by my place later. Bring dinner.  
-S _

A mix of anticipation and anxiety coursed through Root's body, taking the text as Sameen's obtuse way of asking her out on a date. After spending a few minutes driving her number home, she began to meticulously plan out their night together

She had already dropped by the Persian's favorite steakhouse and placed an order for two pounds worth of beef Sirloin. 

She had also dropped by a 24/7 diner and placed 2 orders worth of pancakes, to be picked up later. 

Right now she was eyeing a pretty-but-costly Caribbean-Blue dress with a _very_ low V-neck. It was classy, comfortable, and seductive, something she'd like to bring to her assignments with the machine, though she knew that if everything went according to plan with Shaw, the dress would be in tatters by the end of the night. 

It would be worth it 

She turned to the saleswoman, an 40-something blond with square-rimmed glasses, with her hand wrapped around dress hanger. 

She gave the hacker a sweet, though obviously forced smile that just barely met the requirements of their store policy. 

"Would you like to buy that dress, sweetheart?" 

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch up 

"Absolutely."

\--------

The reformed killer swore she could feel butterflies fluttering from the pits of her stomach to the base of her throat. Like her "date" for the night, she wasn't good with relationships, although she made herself seem more experienced than she let on. 

Which, she was pretty sure, would come to bite her in the ass later. 

She had two takeout bags filled with steak and pancakes, which she was tempted to hide behind when she came up on Shaw's front door. Strangely enough, the television was on, even though the machine had informed her that Sameen's game had already ended hours ago. 

She gave the door a hard rap with her knuckle, followed by the sound of bare feet on varnished wood.

Root heard the sound of a rattling chain, presumably from the door lock, followed by the door opening, revealing Sameen Shaw. 

She hadn't overdressed, that was for sure. Simple grey wool jacket with the hoodie down, revealing messy bed hair that obscured part of her forehead. Plain black bicycle shorts that revealed much of her (relatively short) legs. 

"Hi, Sameen." She put on her most sickeningly-sweet smile, tilting her head and leaning forward just enough to make the Persian uncomfortable but far enough to not get knocked on her ass should she get shoved. 

"Hey to you, too" She grunted, feigned disinterest, but a quick glance revealed her eyes drifting downwards to take in the revealing outfit. "Overdressed, aren't you?' 

She could have sworn she _felt_ the incoming remark on the tip of the hacker's tongue before she finished the sentence. 

"If you wanted to get me out of this dress, all you had to do was ask..." 

The homeowner rolled her eyes and began walking back to her couch, unaware of the light brown eyes boring themselves into her exposed calves. 

"Aren't you gonna invite me in?" Root inquired playfully, eyes still scanning the other woman's body. 

"You got that text, didn't you?." the ex-ISA operative replied bluntly. "C'mon, take a seat." 

The hacker did as she was told, placing the food on the table and taking a seat next to her "date". 

"You do know I did bring us steak." Root muttered softly, as if it was the cheat code to despawn Shaw's clothes. 

\--------

"So, what's the scoop on this game?" Player 2 asked Player 1, curious what kind of story involved a Spec-ops soldier, a Blue Anubis, and a helmet-wearing pink cottonball fighting through a poorly-designed factory. 

"Well, you control franchise mascots trying to take down some big bad boss." She answered, mashing buttons on the controller furiously in an attempt to keep her character (one "Lucario") alive. 

"Just don't die, Root. If you get K.O'd we both have to do the level again." 

Just when the hacker was ready to offer herself to the nearest Primid, if only to see the other woman's reaction when Shaw purred, 

"And that means less time for us.."

Player 2 continued fighting. 

\--------

"This is impossible..." Root growled, her avatar "Snake" getting his percentage knocked up to 85% to Lucario's 30%. 

"Problem, Root?" She spared the hacker a glance, noticing the visible tension on her face. Then she spared a glance at her avatar's damage bar: 114%. 

This brought a rare smile to the ex-ISA agent's face. "You're getting your ass handed to you right now, aren't you?" 

A pair of enemies held the Spec-ops soldier in a stunlock with a series of light blows that gradually brought the damage percentage up. 

"Now's not the time for that, Sam.." The bar went up to 127%, and the light blows were beginning to disorient the hacker. 

"How does it feel like? You know, to be the one getting their ass kicked?" Shaw said, with uncharacteristic smugness. 

"You know if I die, we're gonna have to redo the level, right?" 

The primid on the left let loose a delayed smash punch that knocked Snake of-camera, followed by the tell-tale sound of a knockout and a stifled laugh. 

The hacker groaned audibly 

"Here we go again." 

\-------- 

Two minutes into the level, the hacker suddenly speaks up. 

"Why can't I use my gun?" 

"What?" Shaw asked, though it sounded more like a statement. 

"I mean my guy has a Five-SeveN strapped to his thigh. Why can't he use it?" 

Shaw offers her a shrug 

"Ask Nintendo." 

\-------- 

"Um.....Sweety...." Root squeaked out nervously, the continue prompt taunting the couple. She could have sworn she heard the sound of grinding teeth next to her. 

"How did you manage to get caught in the ONE crushing door on the level." 

She gave a sheepish grin to her co-worker 

"In my defense, that large soda can-" 

"Primid." Shaw blurted out 

"-didn't give me much leeway for movement." 

"Whatever." 

\--------

2 hours in, Root was getting impatient (not that she wasn't already). It was 9'o clock and the food was still untouched. Her partner was still glued to the screen, facing of with emo incarnations of Princess Peach and Zelda.

"Aren't you getting hungry, Sameen?" 

"Not really, you hungry?" 

"Not for the food.." She teased, letting her avatar take a beating as she used her free hand to trace a line down the gamer's neck, who (almost) successfully managed to feign stoicism.

"Why did you invite me here?" 

"Needed a Co-op player."

Her hand drifted lower, skipping over her clothed midriff and scrapping at her thighs. 

"Cute." Root said, face so close to her own that the assassin was wondering wether to either kiss her or headbutt her. "But why me?I'm sure the neanderthal was available.." 

"I just wanted to see you get your ass kicked." 

"Well I'm sure we both wanted to see _something_..." She smiled, her tongue between her teeth, leaning forward ever-so-slightly, just enough for her breath to land on the gamer's neck. "I know I did."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, I'm gonna take a page out of InuGhosts playbook. I'm gonna give you options for the next chapter, which will be community game night:
> 
> 1\. Evolve 
> 
> 2\. Halo
> 
> 3\. Team Fortress 2
> 
> Your pick guys. Just put it in the comments. If you want to give me an idea for a game, just put it in the comments below


	5. Community Game Night: Team Fortress 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Machine meeting up for community game night, with a new (not-so)random player joining their match to offer her assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos if you spot the kesdax references!

"So why'd Bounty bar invite us here?" Fusco asked, though he was more curious on why he picked this over watching the Knicks game with his kid.

"Was hoping you knew." The man in the suit curtly grunted back, eyes methodically scanning the interiors of _Control-Alt-Elite_ , noticing fine pleather seats and up-to-date hardware abundant within the gamer's haven.

"Well, seeing as we are in a cybercafé, I'm guessing something that involves the digital realm " Finch chimed in knowingly.

"Yeah right." Lionel responded, "Me and Wonderboy can barely open our emails. If she needed something done online she would have just rang you up."

Finch simply gave an acknowledging shrug.

"True enough."

\--------

"Bonnie & Bonnie, 2'o clock." The Detective warned his 2 companions, who promptly turned to face the couple.

Root was dressed in a sterile-white physician's coat, unreadable steel nameplate clipped to her uniform.

Right beside her Shaw was dressed far more casually, a simple brown leather jacket and denim jeans, grey wool beanie warming the top of her head. She seemed to orbit the taller woman like a moon, threatening to collide with anyone who even lays eyes on the hacker(doctor at the moment)

"Why did you call us, Root?" Reese inquired suspiciously, eyes narrowing to meet the hacker's gaze.

"Right now, I'm Dr.Saunders. And as for your question, I thought we could do with some time together."

"You do know we have better things to do, right, Butternut Biscuits?" Fusco interjected

"Like what? We both know Lee was planning to watch some Breaking Bad at his buddy's house." Root stated bluntly. "He doesn't even like basketball."

She pointed to Reese

"And I know you don't have plans with Iris tonight."

She turned to glance at Harold

"And I was there when you finished the code, so She and I know you're all free tonight."

The three said nothing.

"Good." Root proclaimed, clasping her hands together. "Shall we play a game?"

\-------

"Would you care to fill us in on the premise of the game, Miss _Saunders_?"

"The lore is a tad ridiculous, but it's simply a never-ending war between Red team and Blu team."

"And why are the playable characters different?"

"This is a class-oriented game. But don't worry, the hitboxes are all the same." She began handing the seated players small slips of paper.

"Steam accounts, courtesy of my associates. Just login and we can begin gameplay.

They all signed in, and then partied up to search for a 5v5 server

  1. Hawfinch
  2. Spyinthesuit
  3. NYPDlion
  4. Indigo5
  5. NutrButr



"Who the hell named these accounts?" Lionel asked.

"Spyinthesuit." Reese deadpanned. "Subtle."

\-------

"It's been 10 minutes, Root. How much longer 'till I can shoot something?" Shaw questioned impatiently.

"It's kind of tough to find a 5v5 server with under 200 ping."

"Any way to speed it up, Ms.Groves?"

The hacker thought for a second, weighing her options. "6v6 servers are a lot more common than 5v5's. We could get in a match with a decent connection to boot, but we'd need to invite a random into the group. You guys ok with that?" She was met with a chorus of nods.

"Ok." She changed the settings to open the party. _Searching...._

_Player found_

_God'sNotDead has joined the party_

\--------

"This game ain't half bad." Fusco absentmindedly muttered as his avatar, a burly one-eyed scottsman, attempted, and eventually succeeded, in skewering a fast-moving blue scout.

"This is just one side of the package. We haven't even gotten to MvM yet." Root promised encouragingly, smacking her Sentry gun towards level 2.

A BLU soldier fired a volley of rockets at the machine and its creator, only for the explosives to be airblasted by a friendly Pyro who happened to be sitting next to her.

"Running out of ammo, Root. Mind upping your dispenser?"Shaw said stoicly as she cooked a sapping spy with her flamethrower.

Root walked towards the dispenser and whacked the sapper off. "Give me a second, sweetie." She turned to the pyro's controller and gave her a sugary smirk. When she turned back she was stuck in 3rd person, staring at her character's now-limp body along with her short-circuiting buildings.

"I thought you cleared the area, Sameen" The hacker asked.

"I did."

"My respawning avatar begs to differ..."

"Well I can see you standing right there, trying to whack the sapper off."

"Torch him. That's not me." Root ordered. Sameen obliged.

"I just killed that sum'bitch. His name popped up in the killfeed. How'd he survive."

"It appears," Finch began, index finger holding down the mouse, "that Mr. BumperHumper was utilizing the Dead Ringer item.That specific weapon feigns the user's death once activated."

"Finch and I just met one of them a few minutes ago," Reese added. "I was pushing the cart, then a Spy got up in my face with his little knife and died when I smacked him with my fist. Then he shanked Harold and me, in that order."

"Dat sucks, buddy." Fusco remarked absentmindedly, engaging his BLU team counterpart in a mortal duel over the cart, Eyelander and Zatoichi exchanging blows.

"Having fun, Lionel?" Reese teased lightly, focused on shielding his employer from projectiles with his characters burly frame.

"Gotta say, wasn't actually expectin' to enjoy this. Kudos to you, Cocoa Puffs."

"Why thank you, Lionel." She gave an easy smile.

"Just a few more seconds and we can deliver the payload to the capture zone, John." Finch implored.

"Just keep the health coming, Finch. We just may win this." Nearby, Fusco seemed as drunk as his character, getting the attention of nearly every member of the other team as he unleashed a torrent of debilitating(and more often than not, decapitating) blows.

"Knowing gamer preferences, I'm surprised than no one on the other team went sniper."Finch observed, using John's avatar's bulky frame as a meatshield

"I think it's because our Sniper is doing such a good job." Shaw answered, as she joined the fray, popping of a flair into a Rocket-jumping Soldier

"Yeah," Lionel chimed in, "He's been covering my ass for the better part of the match. Put me at the top of the scoreboard, actually."

"Nice to know you got someone backing you up, eh?"

"You know it, wonderboy."

\-------

"The game keeps informing me that I am 'fully charged', though for what purpose eludes me."Finch asked dubiously. 

"That means your über's active, Harold. Point it at the big lug and switch it on." Root ordered. 

"And how might I activate that, Ms. Groves?" 

"Press the alt-fire button." 

Finch did as told, a gloss-red aura surrounding him and his patient, John. Rockets splashed near their feet like rain, charged sniper rounds and sticky bombs doing nothing but obstruct their vision as the duo stood their ground. 

"How does it feel?" 

"It feels.... empowering... like I'm finally untouchable rather than simply annonymous." Finch stuttered out, eyes widened slightly to the carnage his associates were currently creating. 

Root simply grinned 

\------- 

The scoreboard came up:

 

      Name                        Score     Streak

  1. NYPDlion                23           7
  2. God'sNotDead       17           2
  3. Hawfinch                16             
  4. Spyinthesuit           14           3
  5. Indigo5                    11           2
  6. NutrButr                    8



"How did  _Lionel_ manage to top everyone?" Shaw asked in disbelief.

"I guess the game likes me more than you guys..."

"And Finch?" She glanced at her employer

"The game seems to appreciate good doctors over good soldiers." He answered, with a taunting waggle of his eyebrows.

"I'm actually more curious about who our mysterious new player is..."

"He's on our side and he kicks ass." Fusco offered with a shrug. "Good enough for me."

"You're just saying that because he saved your ass."

"...More than I can say for you guys."

"Why are the other team's numbers dropping?" Finch squinted, noting the gradual increase in the number of players with the ping BOT, until their entire team was replaced by artificial intelligence.

"Ragequit."Fusco informed his companions. "Internet phenomena. Happens when one team beats the other so bad that the other team just bails out.."

"I'm surprised that you knew that, Lionel." Root conceeded.

"So, you guys up for some MvM now?"

"Absolutely"

\-------

Crash Course:

"A little help, Sweety?" She politely requested, although the situation was definetly urgent. A Sentry buster and a dozen assorted Scout and Heavy bots were a pain in the ass to deal with alone. "Getting swarmed over here." 

"Give me a second." 

The Bomb Carrier, a Scout-bot, was sent flying by a compressed air blast. 

"On my way. Just keep it together for a sec." 

Root's health was dropping fast, down to half at the moment and certain to be reduced to 0 within seconds by the unruly mob of melee-only robots. 

"I don't have a sec-" She was promptly cut of by the camera panning over her dead body, just in time for the Sentry Buster to arrive and blow its payload. 

"You guys are gonna have to make due on the ammo you have at the moment, or you could pull a Fusco and go Braveheart on the tin men." Root offered helpfully, though she knew she was much more useful dispensing ammo over advice. 

Just a little over a dozen left, But Reese stood alone, half-dead, firing his ridiculously large minigun at the swarm. 

The horde quickly bum-rushed the Russian with a flurry of fish and fists. 

\------- 

"I believe we may require the service's of a sixth player." 

"Ya don't say, Glasses." 

"It's been our, by my count, 3rd attempt, and we have yet to surpass the first wave." 

"Ok boys. Give me a second.." 

_Connecting_

_God'sNotDead has joined the game_

\------- 

"Keep it up, people." Reese encouraged, albeit with a monotone voice. With the inclusion of the sixth man, things have definetely tipped in their favor. 

Root had set up a cozy little nest for them on the top of a building, Maxed Sentry overlooking the Robot's approximate landing zone. Finch was firmly stuck to the two ground fighters, never letting go of his mouse as he overhealed the duo. Shaw's avatar paced the nest like a hawk, ready to airblast incoming projectiles and explosives away before they hacker's machines. Their player 6 was frantically weaving between the 2 forces, collecting valuable money to fund their upgrades. 

"We just gotta hold out against a couple more T-800's before we get past the wave." Informed Fusco. 

"Then all we have to do next is do it 4 more times, right?" Shaw mocked 

"Yeah. Should be a walk in the park." Reese casually snarked back. 

\------- 

"What is that thing?" Root heard someone ask, though unsure whom. 

"Tank." 

"Without a canon?" Reese asked 

"Yep. Right now its just a glorified delivery van." She was rewarded with Reese's low laugh. 

"Mind opening fire on it today, Rasputin?" Fusco complained, while engaged in a melee fight with 2 fish-wielding giant scouts. 

He emptied a couple hundred rounds of ammo into the metal beast, watching its health bar remain steady. 

"The only thing I'm doing is chipping the paint..." 

"Hey Ms. Congeniality, mind leaving Fruity Loops for a sec and help out me and Peanut Butter Cups?" 

John looked Lionel with what appeared to be mild dissapointment. 

"Seriously, Lionel. Peanut Butter Cups?" 

"What? Not a fan of the family business?" 

While they were speaking, Shaw was already BBQ'ing the tank's hull, to a more pronounced but still slow pace. 

"Mind lending me a hand, Fusco?" 

"Nope." 

The Persian grit her teeth 

"Why the fuck not?" 

"Last time I did that to the little tank that could, it pinned my cyclops on a wall and popped him like a grape." Lionel responded 

"Good thing that religious guy's a pretty good scout." 

"Yes indeed, he hasn't missed a single pixel of money so far." Finch added, energy shield out to hold back the tide of melee-scouts, before the camera panned out once again. 

"I believe there is a spy in our midst. I'd recommend you people retreat towards the Sentry nest whilst I attempt to return to the fight." 

\------- 

"How many medics?" 

"I believe there were 6 initially, now we've managed to whittle them down to 5." 

"How do we take those doctors out before they pop their über?"Finch questioned Root. Fusco attempted to engage the chief Heavy-bot in a brawl, only to end up gibbed in a shower of digital blood. 

"Burst damage would work, something to keep them from activating their invulnerability." 

"I believe none of us are utilizing burst-damage classed.." 

"I believe," She said with a smile, "Player 6 has gone spy." 

God'sNotDead managed to sap a medic-bot before putting his stock knife in its back, and immediately followed up by downing another one. 

Three medic bots 

Shaw's avatar airblasted one towards the water 

Two medic bots 

Reese emptied his minigun at a metal doctor, who already having popped his charge, went down in a hail of scrap metal. 

One left 

Player 6 got it in the back, breaking the healing beam 

Reese walked toward the his fellow class-member, filling its steel shell with lead, with Finch providing health to his friend. Root had wrangled her now-maxed sentry gun and was manually firing into the horde, keeping them at bay while Sameen cleaned up whoever managed to reach their nest with red-hot flames and a fire-ax. Fusco, knowing melee combat with the Terminator was fatal, simply stood by and spam-taunted the horde. 

\-------- 

They had whittled down the final wave to only the tank, now appearing as a charred husk of its former self. Everyone was attacking it, Even Fusco, through a slew of ineffective swings of the sword. 

"Everyone press G." Root ordered. "Trust me." 

Everyone's avatar began to taunt the Tank.Reese's avatar shot the tank with his finger-gun. Root's simply swung his guitar at the vehicle. Player 6's spy attempted to poke it. Finch's attempting to skewer the chassis. Fusco's tried to lop the tank's head off(though it failed, since obviously tanks have no head) and Shaw's actually firing of a Hadouken. 

_"Victory"_

\------- 

"Out of curiousity, why did you go Heavy, Reese?" Root spoke in between sips of Cola. "Not that it doesn't suit you. Just seems you'd be more of a spy-main." 

"I've spent half my life dodging bullets. Feels good to be able to simply shrug them off for a change." Reese replied nonchalantly 

"And I wouldn't have pegged you for the YOLO type of player, Fusco." 

"Ya learn something new everyday, Fruity Loops." He took a glance at his watch. "It's getting late, gotta get home or Lee'll bust my chops over this." He stood up, and glanced at Team Machine before , "Thanks." 

"No problem, Lionel" 

\------- 

"You ought to go home now as well, Shaw." 

"And why is that, Reese? 

"I can hear your stomach. You must be famished by now." 

"Yeah." the shorter woman conceeded. 

"Would you two care to join us for dinner? Just at the Monet's a couple blocks down." Harold invited 

" Does it have steak?" 

" You can even skewer it on your combat knife." Reese mocked softly. 

"Just give me a second, I have to freshen up." Root left for the bathroom, turning on the lights and locking the door. 

She gingerly placed a hand on her implant before talking to the Machine. 

"It was you, wasn't it? Your God'sNotDead" 

The Machine responded 

_Yankee.Echo.Sierra._

"I knew it." 

The Machine responded 

_Hotel.Oscar.Whisky_

"Well, first of all, I saw your ping number as BOT. Bots don't usually follow players around servers." 

Silence 

"Would you be open to playing with us more often?" The hacker asked, unsure of the response though she knew whatever She picked was the right one. 

She heard her own voice on the earpiece, a snippet of conversation she had with Her a long time ago. 

"Absolutely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long for u guys.


	6. Game Night: Army of Two(Devil's Cartel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hope you're good with a rifle, John." Player 1 said, losing health to the blind-firing masses of footsoldiers.
> 
>  
> 
> "Gonna need it if you want to keep us alive." 
> 
>  
> 
> "You've never seen me with a rifle before." He clicked the thumbstick, letting his character hold his breath
> 
>  
> 
> "Think I have. That's why I was DM for that number while you were groundside." Her screen was tinted colorblind, blood spotches on the edges of the screen. 
> 
>  
> 
> "You aren't exactly a good negotiator, Sam." Reese deadpanned, drawing out 10-letter word.
> 
>  
> 
> "You kidding? I negotiated our way out of a lot of our problems."
> 
>  
> 
> "I don't recall negotions either starting or ending with firearms drawn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back baby! Never leaving you guys without wrapping this up ok? I'm gonna tell you when I'm tossing my laptop and account. Enjoy

Sameen had nearly managed to drift off to sleep (totally not dreaming about a certain Brunette hacker) when her phone's disruptive ringtone played, evicting her out of her tranquil state of mind.

"What?" She spat rudely. Someone had better be dying. 

"Need your help." John's hoarse voice replied. "Got a bad cut from a knifefight. Might need stitches." 

She sighed and massaged her temples. This wasn't something she could just ignore. 

"Fine. Where should I pick you up?" 

She heard the rap of knuckles on wood 

She could have sworn she heard his smirk over the line "Already here." 

She walked towards the door, bare feet on the wood. 

"Reese" 

"Shaw" 

She gave the suited man a once-over. His naturally impeccable suit seemed glazed with dust, and his right pant leg had a huge tear on it that revealed a long, bloody gash on ragged flesh. 

"You waiting on a formal invitation, big guy? Come in." She barked, though without a trace of annoyance. 

Although she had turned her back to the spy, she could hear the soft dragging of feet, most likely from limping. He must have been hurt more than he let on. 

"Nice place you got." He shared, eyes scanning the apartment. "Decor could use a little work though." 

"Just take a seat on the couch." She ordered. "And don't bleed on my nice clean floor." 

"Yeah, because blood stains on waxed floors are impossible to remove." Reese mocked snarkily

Shaw walked out of her room, carrying a first aid kit and a bottle of cheap whiskey. 

"Couldn't scrounge up any painkillers, so this'll have to tide you over." She handed him the liquor. 

He wordlessly unscrewed the lid of the bottle and downed a quarter of its contents. "Thanks." 

The assassin pulled out a scapel and a lighter, heating the former with the latter. 

She began cutting the fabric around the wound 

"This outfit cost five-figures, Shaw." He whined 

"Would you have prefered taking off your pants?" 

They both remained silent. Shaw took this as her cue to resuming mutilating the tailored outfit.

\------- 

"This part's going to hurt..." she warned her broad-shouldered coworker. 

"Just...get it over with." He mumbled softly 

John winced as the needle entered his flesh, though he gave no other indication of the pain. His fingers clenched into a fist as the thread tugged at his skin. 

"Gotta say," Shaw began,"you're taking this a lot better than Root did." 

"Well, I'm kind of used to this types of appointments. Root was a hacker. Doubt she'd been in the line of duty." 

"Heard you did something like this to yourself before." Reese continued 

"When?" 

"Back when we first met. You shot at me with your Submachine gun, remember?" 

"Yeah, shit. I remember..." 

"Mind telling me what happened in between emptying your service weapon in my vest and getting ziptied to a chair?" 

"Got tagged in the gut. Kidnapped a low-level dealer and went to his house. Performed a little self-surgery. Shot up their bosses." She shrugged, "You know, the usual SOP when you get burned." 

Reese gave a curt nod of agreement. "Been there." 

"May as well crash on the couch. Doubt you could get far on one leg." 

"Not actually tired. Got anything we could do?" Reese inquired, half-expecting to get ordered to sleep. 

"Actually yeah. You game, right?" 

\------- 

"Who brought you the CD?"

The wounded man asked, genuinely curious on when she found time to buy a CD

"Found it in my mail." She retorted truthfully 

What she didn't say was that the disk case had crimson lipstick from a kiss smeared on the the cover.It was quite obvious who it was from, though she prefered not to think about it. And there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell she's telling anyone about it. 

\------- 

"So, you're Alpha and I'm Bravo. The writers really went all out with the script..." Reese deadpanned 

"Yeah. Just start playing." Shaw commanded

\------- 

"So _A_ to take cover, Right trigger shoot, and Left trigger to aim?" 

"Pretty much.." 

"So, just like Watchdogs?" The stabbed soldier asked 

"What?" 

The bulky operative simply shrugged."Nevermind." 

The level opened up in the desert, his and Shaw's player characters hiding from two generic-looking Cartel members, one of which strangely resembled the man who gave him his leg wound. The footsoldiers moved toward the two players, only to get intercepted by another pair of presumably friendly mercenaries. 

The duo seperated to attack each grunt, abruptly swapping targets to finish them off, culminating in the smaller one of the pair stabbing the soldier on the ground while his huge partner snapped the kneeling man's neck. 

Reese coudn't help but be impressed with them. 

Gameplay began 

"Just follow my lead." Alpha's gamer ordered, sprinting and ducking behind a stack of wooden pallets. 

Bravo obeyed. 

"Let's try to go for the double takedown here, John." 

"How?" 

"Click the right thumbstick once you're right in front of their faces." 

John clicked on the stick, causing his orange-masked avatar to stand over his cover and strike the stack of wooden pallettes with noticeable volume. Shaw could hear the her patient frantically mashing the A button until his avatar took cover again. 

"Thought they saw me.." John explained sheepishly. Sameen rolled her eyes. 

"Just knock their ass down." 

Bravo obliged, sprinting towards the AK-47 wielding grunt and clicking the thumbstick, causing his avatar to jam the blade in the shirtless grunt's neck. 

His friend turned around, ready to empty the submachine gun into the T.W.O. operative only to be forced to kneel with a low kick and stabbed twice in the back. 

"Not bad, Spook." 

"You too, Indigo." 

\------- 

"Waiting on you, short stack." Reese taunted. 

"Call me that again, and I'm breaking the Booze on your head." She calmly promised, although she could feel a rare smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

She sprinted towards the wooden door, assisting her co-op partner in lifting the door. They immediately dashed toward opposite sides of the gate once bullets started flying. 

"Hang back and thin them out, Shaw. I can keep them fixated on me." Reese ordered, something that tempted the doctor to argue with him simply on principle. He was right though, his automatic rifle and shotgun giving him an advantage in direct combat while Sameen's loadout was more suited to picking off targets at range. 

Bravo charged forward through the wall of bullets, shrugging of the occasional lucky round with ease. He managed to park himself behind a car, blind-firing his shotgun and successfully grabbing what seemed to be the attention of every cartel member in Mexico. 

He knew Shaw was doing her job, as every few seconds a cartel member would get a part of his body(namely the head and upper torso) blown clean off. Although this helped somewhat, it wasn't fast enough to reduce the enemy faction's lead output to manageable quantities. The occasional stray bullet interrupted his health regeneration, keeping his screen at a perpetually colorblind save for the red tint of blood. 

"Don't know how long I can hold on here, Shaw." Reese informed, now spamming grenades in a futile attempt to recover some breathing room. His character suddenly meleed, delaying the grenade throw. This led to his character tossing the frag right at the car door, before promptly deciding to take cover there for some strange reason. 

Naturally, the car blew up, taking the T.W.O. agent with it. 

"Little help here." He requested. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he could see the doctor shaking her head in stifled dissapointment. 

"Why do I always have to yank your lame ass out of the fire, John?" The Persian asked, almost mockingly 

"Do I need to remind you of how we first me again?" Reese deadpanned, voice more gravelly than usual, as if he was insulted by her rare attempt at humor. 

She said nothing, instead opting to switch to her sidearm and sprinting to her fallen partner. Alpha injected the gored Bravo with a needle presumably loaded with Epinephrin, which somehow healed him of all his wounds. Video game logic at its finest. 

"Thanks." Was all he said 

She didn't need to say anything.

\------- 

"Could you be any slower?" Shaw complained. It seemed that her patient was deliberately taking his sweet-ass time shopping for shit. Who even needed 2 masks? Just buy a gun and use it, dammnit! 

"Give me a second." Reese skimmed through the mask and body armor sections, since that would have little, if any, use in game. He did buy the Battlefield mask, which colors(Gloss black, red, and ice blue) he actually found intimidating. 

After(To Sameen, at least) a month of window shopping, he finally readied for gameplay. 

"Finally." She blurted, unfiltered exasperation in her voice.

They watched the cutscene and started gameplay. 

\------- 

Their hammer-and-anvil strategy worked seamlessly, with the only actual problem being the random stray grenade an NPC managed to chuck at them. And the random large gasoline tank with a delayed fuse that decided to go supernova once the marksman of the two stepped in range after clearing the area. 

"What was that about me yanking your lame-ass out of the fire?" Reese taunted, words dripping with abject, unfiltered sarcasm. 

She said nothing as the needle was jammed in her Player Character's chest save for a grouchy grumble. 

"You want to take the upper or lower path?" 

"Any's good." 

Alpha's player selected the upper path for herself. 

"There aren't any pick-me-ups in this stage, so you're one and done if you go down."She stated matter-of-factly 

They each took cover, Reese behind a wooden crate while Shaw was firmly parked behind the bridge railing. 

Both of them opened fire, for merc's went down with their upper bodies mangled. In spite of their promising start, both players were struggling with being a one man army. The amount of grenade spam he was receieving made it difficult to stay in once place for long, and he was forced to blind fire his shotgun or get his head blown off the moment it went above cover. 

Sameen wasn't faring much better, her Designated Marksman role difficult to fulfill with each lucky hit screwing up her aim. As the goons managed to push closer and closer she was forced to depend on her SMG more often, allowing the mid-range AR wielding mercenaries to take pot shots at her at their leisure. 

One lucky(or unlucky, if you count how he ended up) footsoldier managed to sneak up on Bravo, landing a lucky hit with the butt of his rifle before getting disembowled by a particularly brutal knife kill. The damage had been done though, and Reese was only a milesecond away from getting killed. Suddenly, time slowed down, not in real life but in-game for some reason. The enemies moved at ridiculously slow speeds that made them seem almost static, and his ammunition and grenade counter dissapeared from the bottom-right of the screen. 

He fired, the continuous clacking of the automatic slowing down to a dull thump as the bullets in his rifle appeared to have taken on explosive properties. The enemies didn't last long against the unlimited stream of HE rounds 

"How'd you do that?" He asked, knowing Shaw had something to do with the temporary invulnerability he had briefly attained 

"Right Bumper. Push down and you become Rambo for 4 glorious seconds." 

He did so 

"That was a waste." Was her slightly annoyed response, watching her character move at a snail's pace against her will."Cut it out, John" 

He did so again, bringing gameplay back to real time 

They sprinted to the church door, conveniently marked by their HUD and objective board.

He was expecting a hectic interior battle, and was dissapointed when the game skipped to a cinematic. 

_Blah Blah Blah. Terrible foreign voice acting. Just get it over with_

Shaw was itching to get back to the shooty part of the game.

The next area was very similar to all their previous fights, minus the dead bodies and ruined cover. Typical 2 man job that seemed to drag on for minutes. 

After clearing the area of hostiles, the other pair of Mercenaries regrouped with them. The Objective displayed _Breach the compound_ followed by a helpful directional arrow to guide them. She held _X_ , which caused Alpha and Bravo to enter the compound. Time slowed down as the mercenaries peppered the building walls with bullets and shotgun shells, turning the residents into bloody smears on the wall. Once the slow-mo from the Breach deactivated, Reese activated his Overkill to extend their duration in Matrix time.The small building was cleared in seconds, the other duo doing a surprisingly decent job for computer-controlled allies(They were less team-killy than Halo's Marines, that was for sure). They were rewarded with a subpar cutscene. A _Very_ Long-ass cutscene.

\-------

"The other pair of mercs are down." Reese said in an attempt to inform his partner. To Shaw he was simply stating the obvious. She already played through the level before solo. 

"No Shit, Sherlock." Was her stoic reply, though sarcasm was glazed in her voice. "Do you want to protect the big lug or the get the girl?" 

"My shotty's good for tight quarters. Plus I always get the girl." He mocked, making the choice with the push of the D-pad. 

He essentially roadie ran through the labyrinth of dust and conveniently-placed concrete stoppers, taking cover ever so often to avoid the hail of bullets while dishing out his own share of hurt. What he failed to notice was the ISA agent was watching over two bodies, taking aim at the Cartel members blocking her collegue's path before dismembering them with her rifle. Thankfully he didn't need to run long, and once Reese reached inside the compound she gave her full attention to the kneecapped T.W.O. agent's well being. That MMG was a pain in the ass though, whittling their health away with unlimited ammunition. 

"Hurry the hell up." She complained, kneecapping a running grunt with her rifle, which consequently blew said knee(along with the rest of his lower leg) off. 

"Going as fast as I can." The man in the suit answered back, eyes narrowed in concentration as his avatar bent a footsoldier backward and slashing his throat. Inefficient and bloody, but quick. He eviscerated another member with a shell to the chest, painting the generic-grey walls with digital crimson. "Just give me a second." 

After about 4.54 seconds(yes, she kept count) the MMG stopped firing. She could hear the tell-tale sound of someone getting a blade through the chest. "Nice job." 

"I aim to please." 

He mounted the MMG himself, firing quick, concise bursts at each target and doing a half-decent job of giving them cover. 

They both heard rubber burning, followed by the appearance of an armed truck. 

"Shoot the Truck, Reese." 

"My pleasure." He swiveled the gun barrel and emptied his lead stores at the unfortunate gunner. A beautiful in-engine cutscene of the driver getting ejected was his reward. 

"Cover me while I grab the mounted grenade launcher." She stated, knowing that was as good as an order. That's what Reese did best: Follow orders. 

He obliged her request, if the brutalized corpses around the truck were of any indication. "Damn." She gave a low whistle before mounting the beautiful machine. 

Reese was so engrossed in the carnage that he failed to notice Shaw's objective on screen. He was consequently surprised once the damn crane came down in front of his building, blocking the entrance. 

"Guess I'm going up." Reese acknowledged, eyes on the blue objective marker. "You're on your own, Sam." 

"Can do." 

In what seemed to be a remix of the previous level, he made his way up the building, shotgun shells punctuating each step with their low, lethal echo. 

"Hostage secured." His avatar said, virtual eyes glued to the helicopter. 

"Hope you're good with a rifle, John." Player 1 said, losing health to the blind-firing masses of footsoldiers. 

"Gonna need it if you want to keep us alive." 

"You've never seen me with a rifle before." He clicked the thumbstick, letting his character hold his breath 

"Think I have. That's why I was DM for that number while you were groundside." Her screen was tinted colorblind, blood spotches on the edges of the screen. 

"You aren't exactly a good negotiator, Sam." Reese deadpanned, drawing out 10-letter word. 

"You kidding? I negotiated our way out of a lot of our problems." 

"I don't recall negotions either starting or ending with firearms drawn." 

She gave an unforced smile, something the wounded man has yet to see before the day. "Problem got solved, didn't it?" 

\-------

"I got it." Reese picked up the ringing phone before his friend(yes actual friend, not just colleague) did, placing the Landline speaker on his ear. "Hello?" 

"Reese?" A female voice said, someone he recognized from his actual job. 

"Yes, Root?" 

"What are you doing there?"

He opened his mouth to answer, before he was promptly cut off by the hacker. 

"Nevermind. Where's Sameen?" She asked, voice somewhat higher than usual. Almost imperceptably so. 

"Sam's here. Gonna put you on the phone." He offered the Persian her phone. "It's your girlfriend." Daggers bore in his face as the short woman seemed to consider using her patient as a dartboard. 

Her glare was quite intimidating. Would have worked on another person. Lionel, Harold, would have sputtered something to appease her. He on the other hand, could handle her cold, murderous gaze. But it probably wasn't a good idea. He simply raised his hands in surrender, hoping it would keep her from hitting his leg wound with the half-empty bottle of Whiskey on the table. 

Thankfully she accepted the phone without actually resorting to assault her wounded colleauge, though her eyes didn't leave instantly, shooting one last glance that would make lesser men cower. He simply gave her a sheepish grin, knowing he may have overstepped his bounderies a tad. 

"Root." She spoke 

"Hi Sweety~" The hacker greeted perkily. 

"Why?" 

"Was thinking we could go out for breakfast later. Get something to eat." The way she lingered on the word _something_ suggested less innocent intents. 

"Can't. Spent the night with John. Didn't sleep a wink." "There's a nice place on 5th and- wait. What?" She asked. Shaw could feel her (totally not) girlfriend's disbelief. And she could have sworn she heard Root's eyelid's pop open like she was shot up with conventrated caffeine. 

"We spent the night. It's why he picked up the phone before me." 

Silence.... 

The call suddenly cut off. 

Shaw laughed to herself. Reese found it a bit unsettling. Not human-like, but enjoyable to hear. A bit like a bird chirping. 

"You're rifle's in the History section by the way. Wasn't kidding. Behind the S section. May as well take it back." 

She sounded like she was trying to take a tentative step forward, trying to gain his trust. It was weird, to say the least. But it was a start. 

He decided to meet her halfway. 

"It's ok. Keep it." 

They looked at each other, neither smiled, but Reese felt... content. Yes, that was the word. He'd actually found a friend from a stab wound. Made it almost worth the pain. 

No, screw it. It was worth it. 

\-------

Root was torn. 

Contrary to popular belief it wasn't exactly easy to "pick your poison". Cyanide was good. But it wasn't consistent on its effects. She wanted the big lug to suffer a painful end. Cyanide was a gamble: either a quick heart attack or a painful seizure could take effect. She didn't want to work with such polar opposite possibilities. 

Another option. The "Breaking Bad" classic. Ricin: Untraceable. Painful. Long-lasting. No cure. But hard to aquire. She could ask the machine but she doubted She would help her kill a Primary asset, even if it was for sleeping with her girlfriend. 

So option 3. Non-lethal, but painful and uncomfortable, just like most non-lethal things in the market. Laxatives. Diarreha was rarely fatal, but it was always uncomfortable and very, very disruptive. Enough to make him regret it but not enough to get back in the cage should she be caught. 

Option 3 it is then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt good to write. It really did. Any suggestions for next chapter? For the 2 people and their game. Thanks for the support. Please drop kudos and comments. They help a lot.


	7. Guy's Night In: Super Mario Bros (Wii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the long break, I was sorting stuff out  
>  Hoping this tides people over for a bit.

"What are you doing, Finch?" 

Startled, the gamer ignored the pirahna plant on the pipe and found his Mario short on a life. He stood up, controller in hand as if he would use it to bludgeon his uninvited guest. 

"Mr. Reese." He let out a breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding in. "I thought you were recuperating." 

"Still am. Shaw ordered me out of rotation for a week, so I'll be right as rain tommorow. And you didn't answer my question." 

"Isn't it obvious? Gaming." The Avian-ish man answered with a shrug, now continuing his quest to save the Princess, although down to a paltry 2 extra lives. 

He shouldn't have been surprised, but he was. He had always assumed his employer was always looking for people to save, never actually doing anything for himself. But honestly, gaming and tech were always on the same spectrum; he rarely ever saw a person do only one of those things. It's like they were a package deal of a sort. 

"You need some help, Harold?" He offered, more for his own benefit than his friend's. Frankly, he was getting bored. He couldn't handle the silence, cooped up in an apartment with nothing to do. No wifi or numbers to unburden his mind. 

He paused his game. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of hands..." 

He resumed his game. "The second remote is behind the tv screen. It should have enough energy to last for a few hours." 

\-------

Just 10 minutes in, Harold Finch was regretting his decision of cooperative gameplay, if you could even call it that. Reese seemed to be going out of his way to pouch every single powerup that managed to spawn, followed by "accidentally" losing said powerup to a stray gumba or an unforgiving abyss.

It was almost as if the green-hated avatar was magnetic, or if his friend's charm extended to the digital realm. 

Thankfully(and mercifully) that finale hurdle was cleared. The duo were rewarded with a tall flag, nearly as tall as the Television screen, and a small grey-brick castle that signaled the end of the level. 

One down, approximately three dozen to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologize for the shortness, but it was kind of a rush job. I promise the next chapter will be worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any formating errors. This is my first story, and I hope to learn enough to keep my stories readable. Thnx for reading


End file.
